


Coffeshop run ins

by kira892



Series: Two and two is four [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Babies, Homestuck - Freeform, M/M, babystuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kira892/pseuds/kira892
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sighing, you look over at the reason why you aren’t in your apartment, working at your desk, in your nice, quiet room like a sensible person. It was busy staring at its surroundings, which reflected clearly in his huge, shiny baby shades like a tiny, freckled, blonde camera.</p><p>Your name is Dirk Strider and sometimes you really dislike your son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffeshop run ins

You scribble out another detail on what felt like your 10th draft and you erratically scribble lines all over the entire thing before flipping the page in frustration and starting out another. You hurriedly write the words “Concept art” at the top of the page before lightly touching the tip of your pencil to the paper. You’ve gone through so many unsatisfactory sketches that your brain is having quite a bit of trouble re-booting and the incessant buzz of conversation and static-y jazz music blaring out from the shitty speakers really isn’t helping.

Sighing, you look over at the reason why you aren’t in your apartment, working at your desk, in your nice, quiet room like a sensible person. It was busy staring at its surroundings, which reflected clearly in his huge, shiny baby shades like a tiny, freckled, blonde camera.

Your name is Dirk Strider and sometimes you really dislike your son.

 

“But Davey’s a good kid! Never cries! Probably got that from you. You don’t know how lucky you are. Hella lucky, yup. That’s what you are.” Roxy would say. You wonder if Dave ever threw things at the back of her head or miraculously find his way out of his crib to fuss, whine and scream random toddler gibberish at her until she gave him what he wanted, like take him out to a public place, in this case, the tiny coffee shop around the corner for some fucking reason even other babies probably would never know because he was antsy and refused to let you sit down and do your work.

You reach up to rest a finger against the side of your temple and you curse Roxy silently. Sure you and her had agreed to a schedule on who gets to take care of Dave when but seriously, you have deadlines to meet for complicated as fuck designs of animatronic puppets that you are also responsible for building. It’s not that you’re shirking your duties as a parent but you are busy dammit.

You turn back to your work, wondering in the back of your mind if you should put a better use for all the knowledge you garnered in university studying robotics for a better use. You were busy getting sidetracked wondering how busy you would be developing some sort of eco-robot or something vs designing working props for movies when your attention lazily drifts over to your peripheral vision and you notice that Dave was very much not in his stroller where he very much should be.

Alarmed, your head jerks upwards and you scan the shop for your kid, who apparently needs some baby shackles or something because seriously, he’s a budding cat-burglar and he couldn’t even say cat yet.

You relax when you see Dave a few seconds later. Dave, it seems, with his alarming ability to sneak out of highchairs, strollers and any other apparatus designed to keep babies in one place, had wondered away from you and to the table in the corner where he was now standing, staring up at a squirming, buck-toothed baby who was flailing in the arms of a slightly-confused looking, considerably older carbon copy of said baby.

==============================================

Your name is Jake English and devil’s dickens, where the hell was Jane when you need her?

Of course, you are fully aware that in light of your current relationship status, you’re not allowed to need her but still! John was your shared responsibility! And bluh bluh bluh you should do your part in raising him, bluh bluh, you’re not complaining about that…not really…honestly though, you have no bloody clue why Jane was so adamant on making you take him out on walks and such. Does she not know how bad you are with children? You barely get by when John is safely indoors with you. She thinks it’s a good idea to expose him to outside world when you can scarcely keep him from picking things off the floor and putting them in his mouth?

You had a close call in the park, when John somehow ticked off a very temperamental baby. (Seriously, you’re not one to judge but a parent must be doing something terribly wrong if their kid had anger issues like that one) One moment John was innocently entering the sandbox, you look away and the next moment, the other baby was there, screeching at John in a way that made you almost think he’d be swearing if he could. He was wildly swinging a plastic toy car and would’ve thrown the stuffed cat at his feet, at John if you hadn’t swooped in, snatched John up and absconded before either of you can get in trouble with the baby or its parent.

And now this! After the park fiasco, you decided to duck into a coffee shop for some scones and perhaps some tea. John had ambled in, in front of you, clutching the bunny Jane brought for him to his chest. He waddled over to a table in the back and you were absently admiring how cute his toddle was, still relatively new to up and moving on his feet instead of his little baby hands and knees. He set his bunny down on a chair and you sat down on the one across from it, reaching over to pull him into your lap.

As you were lifting him from the ground, bam! suddenly materializes the strangest baby you’ve ever seen. Pale blonde hair, so light it was almost white and huge, shiny shades that give off the impression of a very glossy-eyed bug. You blink and open your mouth to ask the little munchkin if he was lost. Before you can accomplish your obligation as the dumb adult who thinks lost infants could provide them with intelligent answers however, bug shades baby goes over and swipes John’s bunny from the chair it was sitting in.

And so was the cause of your current predicament.

Now John was squirming in your arms, making alarmed noises and looking down at the errant blonde child who appears to be stealing his bunny and blustering heavens, you have no idea what to friggin do. Of course the sensible thing would be to get your son’s toy because he’s your son and that toy is rightfully his but if you do, bug shades baby would most probably cry and fucking hell, you couldn’t even deal with your own kid when he’s crying, much less someone else’s.

Stars and fucking garters, what are you gonna do?

As if answering your troubles for you, John gets so restless that you bend down and set him on his feet before he springs out of your arms and falls on his head or something equally dreadful. As soon as the soles of his tiny shoes touch the floor, John runs forward and, for a lack of a better term, charges forward like a pissed off little bovine with big teeth and blue eyes. Before he can barrel his target over however, the other baby absconds, taking off down the aisle like a frikking bullet. John runs after him and you leap out of your seat to chase him.

You barely get three steps before John jumps and tackles the other baby. They fall to the tiled floor with a loud ‘smack!’ that makes you wince and in the next second every head in the place was turning to the deafening sound of John bawling.

Oh fuckaroony. Fuck dammit, shit, shit go run to John! Pick him up dammit! You are a horrible parent Jake!

You are fully prepared to pick John up and shoosh pap him back to normalcy and you’d just laid your hands on him when another pair beats you to it and scoops up your son for you. The foreign pair of hands make you raise your eyebrows and your eyes follow the wrists connected to them, up a pair of arms and finally your gaze settles on a blond man who was about your age. He looks acutely similar to the blond child you realize belatedly is still on the floor while this man who is obviously his father puts your son on his feet and pats imaginary dirt off of his knees.

He gives John a once over, clicks his tongue and to your bafflement, grabs his child by the hood of his little jacket and lifts him to his feet like a kitten.

“Dave,” he addresses the kid, who was now staring up at its parent with a blank expression that is really quite strange to see on a child his age.

Your eyes widen when he flicks the baby on the forehead hard enough for said baby to stumble and fall on his little rump. How bizarre! If Jane were here, she’d snatch that baby up in her arms and fly off the handle, straight into a protective, maternal rage of great intensity.

The child doesn’t so much as blink however (metaphorically speaking. You can’t see anything beyond those ridiculous shades of his) he falls to his bum yes but unlike most babies, he just keeps his creepy poker face and stares up at his dad for a long time.

============================================

You stare Dave down and slowly raise an eyebrow behind your shades, as is protocol whenever he does something bad. You trust that he would understand as he, well…sometimes does. He understands all the time, you know he does, he’s a perceptive kid. You know he can read your body language and is able to tell when you’re displeased with him. Its just that, well, he’s a real chip off the old block and when he doesn’t feel like it, he refuses to give a single fuck.

You poke him in the shoulder and point at the bunny he’s still clutching. “Bad.” You say before pointing to the sniffling, dark-haired baby that he victimized. “Give it back.”

He stares at you for a few more seconds, looks at the bunny in his arms and pulls himself to his feet. He walks over to the other kid and you internally sigh, thanking your lucky stars that Dave seems to be in one of his obedient moods today.

And then the other kid screams, yanks the bunny back and smacks his little palm soundly against Dave’s cheek. Hard. Enough that Dave’s head tilts sideways and he stumbles back a few steps.

Someone gasps and you remember the other kid’s guardian, who was the apparent source of the gasp. He’s now looking down at the dark-haired kid with an appalled expression.

“John! Blimey, I know he did you wrong but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to hit him. Well, not that hard anyway! I mean, I’m glad I’m not raising you to be a pushover but-…oh fuck, what am I saying? No! bad baby!” The adult, green-eyed version of “John” says, wagging a finger at the baby version disapprovingly.

You raise an eyebrow, mildly amused. Well what do you know? Apparently someone exists who was a shittier parent than you are.

This little spiel appears to upset John even further and you jerk back in shock when the kid chooses to run to you for some reason and cling to your shirt as he cries.

“Oh no, John! Come back here! Let go of the nice man, this is embarrassing.”

Green eyes says, looking like he was hovering over the threshold of panicking. In a gesture that seem to be the complete opposite of help, Dave, with shades askew, takes one look at you with the baby who just bitch-slapped him crying into your shirt, then runs over to green eyes and raises his arms, demanding to be picked up.

Green eyes blinks at him owlishly. “Err, umm…” he says uncertainly before Dave attempts to climb into his arms and he has to gather him up before he slips and hurts himself or something. Once Dave was nestled against his chest, clinging to his shirt like a blonde, albino Koala, he turns his head at you and stares at the intruder who was taking up his rightful space as your offspring.

John sees him looking and apparently is smart enough to interpret Dave’s gesture to be hostile because he releases an irritated noise and clings to your shirt tighter.

Green eyes looks up at you sheepishly and somewhere in the back of your mind you note that he looks a tiny bit young to be a parent. Just like you. And based on the way he acts toward his kid, you think its safe to assume that he was a single parent. Kind of just like you as well. He was cute too. You subtly file that information away and focus on the forthcoming conversation.

“I’m really sorry, he’s used to running to his mum whenever I get unhappy with him. She hasn’t uh…been around as much as she used to and I’m still trying to break him of the habit” Green eyes says, hefting Dave up to better cradle him in his arm.

Some small part of you smirks. Yup, definitely single.

You nod to show that you understand. He slowly stands and you follow suit. You glance back and forth between your children.

“Well, this is a…strange situation. How do you propose we solve this?” you ask.

“Ehrm, I suppose…simply trading them back would be a good start?” he says, eyeing the babies as if he was willing them not to spazz out the second they were moved.

“Alright,” you say, holding John out to him. He mirrors your actions with perfect timing and it causes the two kids to almost bump into each other. The second they’re within distance, John starts spewing angry baby nonsense and his father sighs, pulling Dave back to himself before John could jump arms and yank his hair out or something.

You look at Dave and send him a microscopic frown. “You see this? This is all your fault kid.”

“Oh hush now, he’s just a baby, I’m sure he didn’t mean it umm…” Green eyes trails off, and you respond accordingly to the look he was giving you.

“Dirk.” You say.

He nods and flashes you an adorable little split-second “Hi, nice to meet you” smile.

“Dirk, it’s okay really, my kid is at fault too for hitting yours in the bloody face.” He readjusts his hold on Dave and holds him out in front of him by the armpits. “Listen here little chap, I’m sorry about John, he just really likes that bunny a lot. He can be a bit of a butt sometimes but he’s a real nice kid, I promise. Can you uhh…go make nice with him and go back to your dad?”

Dave of course, in a very Dave-like manner, just stares at him.

Green eyes sighs and wrinkles his nose. “Oh, listen to me trying to reason with an infant like he can understand a single word I’m saying.” he says, looking like he wants to bonk himself in the head for being so silly and clueless about children. It was a bit endearing really.

Then, Dave chooses to surprise you by putting his tiny hands against the ones holding him and kicking his feet back and forth in a clear gesture to put him down. Green eyes blinks and complies and you both watch as Dave walks over to you, points at John and tugs on your pant leg.

John sniffles and looks down at Dave cautiously. You carefully set him down and pry his hands off of your shirt. You and green eyes watch with bated breath as the two babies stare each other down. After a few seconds, Dave reaches over and lightly sets a palm against the bunny in John’s arms and then gently paps John on the head twice.

Green eyes sighs, looking extremely relieved and puts his hands on his hips. He looks down at John and raises his eyebrows hopefully. “Alright John, that was an apology, what do we do?”

John looks up at him, then back at Dave, blinks and slowly raises his arms. Dave just stands there, confused and John goes ahead and hugs him.

“There we go! Phew, we’re all good.”

He looks like he just dodged a bullet. What a dork. He blinks so suddenly, like he just realized he left the stove on or something and his head snaps up to look at you. “Umm, I’m Jake by the way. Sorry about all that ruckus.” He says, grinning at you sheepishly.

How a-dork-able.

You shrug one shoulder. “Its okay.”

His grin fades into a simple, shy little smile and he looks down at your children. His eyebrows rise because John and Dave were still hugging. Well, John was still hugging Dave and apparently, Dave was hugging him back now. It left John’s bunny squished between them awkwardly and admittedly it was a cute sight, worthy of a thousand squealing girls and all the d’awwwwww’s and bwuu’s in the world.

“Well, would you look at that? Somebody switched from rivals to buddies real fast.”

Jake comments and you cross your arms casually. “Indeed. I suppose, since they’re quite acquainted, we 4 should just sit together?” you ask smoothly and give yourself a fist bump when Jake blinks, smiles and scratches the back of his neck in a strangely charming way.

“Umm, Sure.”

About an hour or two later, you’ve gained a new contact in your phone and you walk Jake and John out discussing possibilities of meeting up sometime.

“Alright, say bye bye to Dave John.” Jake says, grabbing John’s wrist and waving it back and forth in your direction. John grins and you look down in surprise at Dave who stretches his arm out and does the open-close gesture with his fingers. His own version of a goodbye wave. How fascinating, you apparently share the same interest in people.

Jake beams at you. “See you ‘round alright?”

You nod and he winks before turning and walking off. John waves at you over his shoulder.

You wait until they’re far enough before turning to Dave. You stare down at him and he stares back.

You raise your fist toward him and he reaches out to oblige your fist bump.


End file.
